Double Take
by Loslote
Summary: What could be more entertaining than forcing war victims to relive their tramatizing pasts? Why, forcing Lord of the Rings war victims to relive their tramatizing pasts in front of millions of viewers, of course!
1. Chapter 1

When Loslote entered the Double Take film studio, everyone in it turned to glare at her. The director pointed wordlessly at the clock, which showed that they were supposed to start filming half an hour ago.

"Sorry I'm late, everyone!" Loslote crowed, and turned to face the cameras.

"Hi, I'm Loslote, and welcome to the internationally famous reality show, Double Take! Hang on a sec." She turned to her assistant, who whispered something to her. **"According to Suzy, here, Legal is insisting that I include a disclaimer. I own none of the characters shown here."**

The assistant said, "My name's not Suzy."

"Quiet, Suzy. Welcome to Double Take, where eleven contestants do whatever I tell them to so that they have a chance to win! Now it's time to meet the contestants! Contestant Number One hails from… um… I'm actually not sure where he lives. Never mind; meet: Gandalf!"

Gandalf appeared, sporting a white sportcoat. The live studio audience clapped halfheartedly.

Loslote waved impatiently at the wizard. "Go sit down, Gandalf. I want to introduce Contestant Number Two! All the way from Lothlorien, please welcome: Haldir!"

There was scattered clapping from the audience.

"Hey, Loslote. How are you today?" Haldir asked.

Loslote went slightly limp. "Ooh… very good… hehhehhehheh."

While writing in her clipboard, the assistant muttered, "I'm beginning to realize why so many guys were invited…"

"Be quiet, Suzy," Loslote snapped.

"My name's Ellen!"

"Incidentally, Haldir, are you single?"

"Go sit down, Haldir," Ellen interrupted. "Next contestant?"

"Fine," Loslote grumped. "Contestant Number Three, from The Shire: Pippin."

Pippin skipped in. "Hi Los—oh look! A butterfly!"

"Moving on. Please welcome, from Rohan, Eowyn!"

Eowyn entered, looking around in confusion. "I thought I was going shopping."

"Contestant Number Five, King of Gondor and of Arnor, everyone please welcome, Elessar, also known as Strider, Aragorn, Telcontar, Dunadan, and, to one confused hobbit in Bree, Eric!" Loslote said.

Crickets chirped.

"I said: Meet Aragorn!"

Now you could hear cows.

"Where is Aragorn?" Loslote hissed.

"He couldn't be here today. Something about a horde of Orcs kidnapping his son."

"Dang."

"I know."

"But I wanted eleven."

"I can get you Faramir."

"I don't want Faramir."

"Your call."

"Okay... Please welcome the Steward of Gondor: Faramir — does he have a last name?"

"Son of Denethor, I suppose."

"Too long: Faramir!"

"What's going on?" Faramir yelped. "I was just kidnapped out of a sound sleep!"

"Have a seat. Catch up with the Mrs."

"Faramir! I saved your life!" Pippin said.

"Yes, thank you," Faramir said. "Again."

"Contestant Number Five: Frodo. Thanks for coming, Frodo."

"As if he had a choice," Ellen muttered into her clipboard.

"How true, Suzy!"

"Ellen."

Frodo muttered, "There's an audience? You didn't say anything about—"

"Metal chairs," Loslote said, pointing. "And all the way from Mirkwood: Legolas!"

An almighty cheer came from the fangirls. Frodo covered his ears.

"There's fangirls? You didn't say anything about—"

"Can I call you Leggie?"

Legolas blinked. "Please don't."

"Whatever you say, Leggie. And now, representing Bree: Barliman Butterbur!"

"That's right! At your service! Say, aren't you hobbits from the Shire? Now what does that remind me of?"

"Hey Barliman," Gandalf said. "Did you remember to deliver that message I gave you?"

"What message—"

"Gotcha!"

"Oh, ho ho, good one, Gandalf!"

Loslote sighed. "Moving right along! Contestant Number Nine from Rivendell: the one, the only, the potentially reborn: Glorfindel!"

Someone coughed as Glorfindel bowed majestically.

"Next up, our Tenth Contestant: Arwen Undomiel!"

"You have got to be kidding me," Glorfindel moaned.

Arwen appeared, looking Arwenish. She issued a Miss-Elvish type wave.

"And now, our eleventh and final contestant, from the Old Forest, it's Tom Bombadil!"

The audience clapped politely as the final contestant sat down.

"Any questions?" Loslote asked.

"Yeah," Faramir said. "What am I doing here?"

Loslote laughed pleasantly. "So, none?"

"Can I quit?" Faramir asked.

"Last chance..."

"What do we win?" Legolas asked.

"So glad you asked," Loslote said. "Bragging rights."

"Bragging rights? What kind of a prize is that?" Haldir asked.

"Budget cuts. You know how it is."

Pippin said, "Not even pipeweed?"

Loslote smiled at the camera and said, "So, don't forget to tune in tomorrow, when our contestants face The First Challenge!"

"I'll give the winner a kiss," someone screamed. "As long as it's Legolas!"

The camera panned out of the chaos that ensued.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own a reality show, yacht, or llama. I also don't own the characters.

"Hello there, TV viewers!" Loslote said into the camera. "Welcome back to Double Take! Today the contestants will face their first challenges."

Loslote turned to the yawning contestants. "First team: Haldir and Butterbur!"

Loslote led the two contestants to the first of six curtained windows. The curtain opened, revealing the woods of Lothlorien.

"Haldir, in the Lord of the Rings, you guided the Fellowship, blindfolded, through the woods of Lothlorien. Butterbur, you delivered Bree beer to them. Today, Haldir will guide Butterbur, blindfolded, through the woods to Caras Galadon to deliver a pint of Bree's best!"

Ellen blindfolded Butterbur.

"You have thirty seconds," Loslote said. "And... go!"

"What?" Haldir yelped.

"Where is it?" Butterbur asked.

"Left!" Haldir said.

Butterbur turned and hit a tree.

"My left, not yours!" Haldir said.

"Now where?"

"Just walk toward my voice."

"There's an echo!"

"Ten seconds…"

"GO FORWARD!"

Butterbur took a few steps.

"Faster! RUN!"

"And… time," Loslote said.

"Arg!" Haldir moaned.

"…arg?" Ellen asked.

"What, is Legolas the only one allowed to be a pirate?"

"Haldir and Butterbur, you did not accomplish your task within the time limit," Loslote said. "You may go sit down."

Butterbur looked around. "Is that it?"

"Eowyn and Faramir: in the Lord of the Rings, you both rushed to the defense of Minas Tirith. Faramir, you battled the Black Breath, and Eowyn, you disguised yourself as the opposite sex and thus foiled the Ringwraith. Today, your roles will be switched. Bartholomew, please help Faramir get ready."

"Now, Eowyn, your task is to reach Minas Tirith in thirty seconds. You will be provided a steed."

"Is that all? I am of the House of Eorl. Though I am a woman, I can ride and wield blade. I do not fear your silly task."

Eowyn mounted and spurred the horse into a canter, heading for a large, handwritten sign in shrinking letters: 'Osgilly-ath.'

"I am not wearing this," Faramir said, reappearing on stage. "These petticoats are ridiculous!"

"Was I unclear?" Loslote asked. "Eowyn stood up to the Ringwraith as the opposite sex. Surely you can do the same?"

"Nice brassiere, Faramira!" called Gandalf.

Faramir turned a cold eye on the wizard.

"Never mind, Faramir." Loslote turned and called across the stage. "Eowyn, are you ready? Good. Then you both have thirty seconds. Go." Quickly, she and Ellen pulled on gas masks.

Eowyn kicked her horse, urging it forward, but almost immediately, she stopped. "Ack! What is that?" The horse, too, seemed disconcerted.

"The Black Breath."

"It reeks!"

"Well, we couldn't get real black breath. We had to have Bartholomew eat a great deal of garlic..."

Eowyn's horse collapsed. Eowyn was holding her nose as she spoke in a nasal voice. "I think it's dead!"

Across the stage, Faramir gaped. "What in Eru's name is that?"

"That's the winged creature that we got to play the Nazgúl."

"It's yellow. And fluffy."

"But big."

The bird, for it was a bird, was six feet tall, with a mighty wingspan and striped legs. Faramir shook his head and charged, but the bird laughed at him and began to sing:

"Sunny day. Keeping the  
clouds away. On my way  
to where the air is sweet!"

Faramir screamed. "MAKE IT STOP!" He crumpled into a ball.

"Can you tell me how to get  
how to get to Sesame Street?"

"Ten seconds…"

"I'm a celebrity!" Faramir yelled. "Get me out of here!"

Eowyn, on the far side of the stage, was attempting to pull the horse through the stink.

"Two... one... and time. Neither member completed the task. Thank you, Big Bird. Tell Elmo hug, hug, kiss kiss."

"I sure will!"

"Moving on, Team Three. Glorfindel and Arwen — please come up here."

Glorfindel dejectedly followed Arwen, who grinned at the live studio audience.

"Glorfindel, in Book One of the Fellowship of the Ring, you discovered Aragorn and the hobbits and rescued Frodo by putting him on Asfaloth. So doing, you sent him ahead to Rivendell. But in the movie version, Arwen rescued Frodo and rode with him."

Loslote pulled back the curtain to reveal the road to the Ford through the woods of Trollshaw. The white horse Asfaloth stood waiting.

"Glorfindel, you must try to stop Arwen from riding off with Frodo and send him alone to the Ford. Arwen, you must try to get on the horse and ride with Frodo to the Ford. Where's Frodo? We need him." Loslote, frowning, looked around. "Props!"

"Can I use my sword?" Glorfindel asked.

"No."

"Arrow?"

"No. Put down that big stick."

Ellen dropped Frodo onto Asfaloth. Frodo said, "I'm in this challenge? You didn't say anything about –"

"Oh, it's so on, dude," Arwen said, rolling up her sleeves.

"Hey, what's this I have in my pocket?" Glorfindel pulled out something small and round. "Blistex!" He doctored his chapped lips.

"You have thirty seconds. And go."

"I've got it!" Glorfindel said as he lunged for Frodo, shoving Arwen back.

"What are you doing?" Frodo said. "Get off me!"

"I'm rubbing Blistex on you so Arwen can't hold on," Glorfindel said.

Arwen made another attempt but fell back, sucking a finger. "Oh, no! I broke a nail."

"Give me the halfling, she-elf!"

"I need athelas!" Frodo moaned. "Someone get Eric!"

"Oh yeah?" Arwen said, forgetting her finger. "Come and claim him!"

But Glorfindel only laughed and slapped Asfaloth. "Noro lim, Asfaloth! Noro lim!"

Arwen made a terrific leap for the horse's flank and somehow held on as Frodo fell off. Arwen, laughing, yelled, "Take that Glor—" Then she, too, bounced off the back. She landed on her stomach. "Oof."

"And… time."

Pippin looked up. "I think Frodo's dead."

"He was on when I dispatched Asfaloth!" Glorfindel said, panting. "That counts."

Loslote shook her head. "I'm afraid neither contestant got Frodo past the Ford. Take a seat. Oh, shut up, Arwen! At least you're conscious." She made a circling motion with a finger. "Next task – Gandalf and Legolas."

Legolas and Gandalf walked to the fourth curtained window, which opened to reveal the top of Caradhras.

"Gandalf, while attempting to lead the Fellowship over Caradhras, you started a fire using only your staff. Legolas, you walked on snow all the way down the mountain. In this task, your roles will be switched. Gandalf, you must make it down the mountain wearing these."

"These snowshoes are made of lead," Gandalf protested.

"Legolas, you must start a fire using this stick. You have thirty seconds. And… go!"

Gandalf started hopping down the mountain.

"Try lifting your feet," Legolas suggested.

"I can't," Gandalf said. "They sink!"

"Then don't put them down," Legolas said, rolling his eyes. "Ooh, and try not to fall."

"Ya don't say!"

"You're not going to make it at this rate."

"You're a fine one to talk! You haven't even started on your fire!"

"The stick is still wet," Legolas said, licking the popsicle. "Interesting technique. Is that supposed to be sledding, or did you fall again?"

A protest came out of the snowbank.

"I think he fell. Is this cherry or strawberry? It's very good."

"Actually," Loslote said, "It's watermelon. And time."

"I think I burst my spleen," Gandalf moaned.

"Sadly, neither contestant finished his task, though Gandalf only had three feet to go. Time for Team Five – Frodo and Pippin."

Frodo and Pippin stepped forward.

"Are you okay?" Loslote asked Frodo. "You look a little sick."

"Him?" Pippin waved his hand. "He's fine. He always looks like that."

"Alright then." The fifth curtain was swept aside to reveal the cavern inside Orodruin and the chasm into which Gollum fell. "The two of you have a very simple task — one that will be familiar to you, Frodo." Loslote held up a ring. "All you need to do is remove this ring from Frodo's finger and throw it into the chasm." She shoved it on Frodo's finger. Frodo looked sicker.

"That's it?" Pippin asked, scratching his head.

"That's it. And go."

"Toss it in, then," Pippin said.

"It's stuck."

"What? Let me see."

"There's some kind of adhesive on it."

"Huh." Pippin scratched his head. "Pull harder."

"I can't get a grip."

"Try sweating less. You're all shiny."

"That's not sweat, it's Blistex."

"You should try using that on your lips. They're chapped."

"Never mind. I can't get it off." Frodo was balancing on his tailbone, trying to pry the ring off with his feet.

"I see that."

"Ten seconds," Loslote said.

"Help me!"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Bite it off."

"Your finger?"

"The ring!"

Pippin made a face. "What have you touched with that finger lately?"

Loslote said, "Time."

Frodo looked up. "How am I supposed to get this off?"

"Here." Loslote pulled out a container of Blistex and rubbed it on his finger. "You were on the right track the first time. See how it slides off?"

"Yes, I see," Frodo said grimly.

"Now, go take a seat while we bring out our final contestant: Tom Bombadil, in the Fellowship of the Ring, you serenaded Old Man Willow. Today, you must serenade the judges of America's Got Talent."

Loslote pulled back the sixth curtain. "And… go!"

Tom Bombadil stepped on stage with a hop and a bound.

"Hello," Sharon said, clearly surprised. "And how old are you?"

"Tom remembers the first raindrop and the first acorn. He knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless, before the Dark Lord came from Outside."

"Interesting," Sharon said. "And where are you from?"

"I live in the Old Forest."

Piers leaned across Sharon. "Is that in America?"

"Near Tennessee," David replied.

"And what are you going to be doing for us today?" Sharon asked Tom.

"I'll be singing."

"The stage is yours," Sharon said.

Tom started to sing.

Hey dol! merrry dol! ring a dong dillo!  
Ring a dong!  
Rolling his eyes, Piers buzzed in.  
Tom Bom, jolly Tom, Tom Bombadillo!

With a sarcastic look, David hit his buzzer.

Hey! Come merry dol! derry dol! My darling!  
Light goes the weather-wind and the feathered starling.  
Down along under Hill, shining in the sunlight—

Sharon, looking sad, pressed her button.

"What was that?" Piers asked. "Hey dol, merry dol? What language was that in?"

"And the blue coat, yellow boots thing — it's not working for me," Sharon said. "Maybe black leather pants? I don't know. You're such a big fellow."

"Let's vote," David said. "No."

"No."

"I'm sorry, Tom," Sharon said sadly. "It's a no from me as well."

"And that's bad news for you, Tom," Loslote said, "because your challenge had a catch. Not only have you failed your audition for America's Got Talent, you've been executed from Double Take, as well."

"It's no trouble to Tom — he hates to leave his country. Tom has his house to mind, and Goldberry is waiting."

"Poor fellow," Sharon was commenting. "No talent at all."

Loslote smiled into the camera. "Join us next week for the eliminations and the final challenge! Don't forget to vote for your favorite from each team.  
Team 1: Haldir or Butterbur  
Team 2: Eowyn or Faramir  
Team 3: Glorfindel or Arwen  
Team 4: Legolas or Gandalf  
Team 5: Frodo or Pippin  
The contestant with the most votes moves on to the final challenge. Don't let your favorites down!"

A/N: Seriously, VOTE! Submit a review and vote for your favorite five. If you vote by July 24th, I will take your votes into consideration in the next chapter. THANKS! 


	3. Chapter 3

"Last time on Double Take: the contestants faced their first challenges: Haldir was a pirate; Big Bird made a cameo; Frodo was Blistexed; Legolas got a popsicle mustache; Tom Bombadil failed epicly in his tryouts. Your votes have been counted, and it's time to say good-bye to five of our contestants. Team One: Haldir and Butterbur, one of you will be going home first."

Haldir and Butterbur walked up.

"Suzy, please give me the results. Okay, the first – "

"Actually, second," Ellen interrupted. "Tom Bombadil was first."

"Fine. Second person to be eliminated is…" Loslote frowned. "Re-vote!"

"You can't have a re-vote," Ellen said.

"But I don't like this vote," Loslote said.

"Let me guess," Ellen said. "Haldir got voted off."

Loslote scowled.

"Haldir, you have to leave," Ellen said, pulling the chair out from under him. "Out."

"The second team, Eowyn and Faramir. Suzy, the results." Loslote read the card and smiled. "Faramir!"

Both Eowyn and Faramir cheered.

"No, Faramir, see, you lost. Now you've got to go home."

"I know!" Faramir said. "Free at last, free at last, thank Eru Almighty, I'm free at last!"

"Right. Okay, moving on," Loslote said. "Glorfindel and Arwen." Ellen handed her a card. "Huh." Loslote frowned. "It seems we have a tie. Okay, I choose—"

"Hey, no way — you can't choose," Arwen said. Meanwhile, Loslote was dipping and curtseying in Glorfindel's direction as she pretended to deliberate.

"She's right, you can't. It's in your contract."

"I have a contract?"

"Uh huh."

Loslote perused the document. "This says I get a paycheck."

Ellen pulled a pen from behind her ear and carefully scratched a line off.

"Darn."

"Read this." Ellen pointed to the fine print.

Loslote squinted, then sighed. "It seems Glorfindel and Arwen will both be staying to the final round!"

Glorfindel whooped while Arwen issued yet another Miss-Elvish wave.

"Up next is Team Gandalf and Legolas." Loslote looked at the paper. "Legolas, with the largest, and the only unanimous, vote so far, you are safely through to the next round. Gandalf, you'll have to leave."

The fangirls in the audience squeed.

"Ah, yes," Gandalf said. "Yes, I thought we might hit that little snag."

"What snag?"

"Well – it's just that you seem to be laboring under the delusion that I am going to – what is the phrase? 'Go quietly.' I am afraid I am not going to go quietly at all, Cornelius," Gandalf said, and then disappeared.

"Who's Cornelius?" Loslote asked.

"Hey wait. That's Dumbledore's line!" Pippin said. "I love Dumbledore. He's my favorite wizard..."

"Thanks," Gandalf said.

"Where'd you come from?" Pippin asked, looking a little terrified.

"I'm a wizard."

"Right. Well." Pippin coughed. "You know what a kidder I am, eh, Gandalf?"

"Please exit the stage," Ellen said in a monotone voice. "You're using valuable air time."

"I know," Gandalf said. "Not to be redundant, but I said, and I quote, 'You seem to be laboring under the delusion that I am going to – what is the phrase? "Go quietly." I am afraid I am not'—"

"Oh, for the love of Eru," Ellen said. "Go to commercial."

~~~~~~  
Cut to ugly man in blue polo shirt holding a can labeled Orc-B-Gone talking rapidly.

"You got orcs. I got orcs. Orcs are a fact of life. But why live with orcs when you can get Orc-B-Gone! Simply spray it at 'em and you'll never be bothered by those pesky beasts again! Smells like happiness! Orcs really don't like it very much!"

Cut to a Warrior of Gondor using the spray against charging Orcs. Warrior smiles dazzingly while spraying; orcs hack warrior with scythes and axes. Warrior continues to spray. Orcs frown, make crazy motions, and leave. The happy warrior bleeds.

Cut to ugly dude. "Order your can today — but wait — there's more! Call today and we'll throw in this lovely Orc-Swatter!"

An attractive house-hobbit in a kitchen is surprised by an Orc that steals a freshly baked biscuit. The she-hobbit swats. Orc takes cookie anyway. She swats again. Orc scowls but leaves.

"Orc-B-Gone and Orc-Swatter combo will meet all of your Orc removal needs for a mere $19.99 — you won't get this in stores! Call now!"

Scenes of smiling hobbit fingering swatter and confidently bandaged warrior flash in sequence as announcer says rapidly:

"Orc-B-Gone is not for pregnant women or women that may become pregnant. Or children. Or anyone over 11. Orc-B-Gone may cause goosebumps, numbness, and shivering if used in walk-in refrigeration units. Orc-B-Gone is not for internal use. If accidental contact with eyes occurs, it is going to hurt like you will not believe, but nothing else will probably happen. We accept no liability for any use of Orc-B-Gone that does not comply with the package directions, or that does. If you swat yourself with the Orc-Swatter, you have only yourself to blame. Shipping and Handling fees are additional and unconscionable.

"Don't live with Orcs – Orc, Be Gone! Call Now."

Cut to the set of Double Take.

"And we're back," Loslote said. A stagehand mopped the stage behind her where Gandalf finally went, but not 'quietly' nor, apparently, neatly. "Next is Frodo and Pippin. Results? Ah, Pippin, so sorry, but your friend Frodo's been eliminated."

Pippin smiled. "Oh! Yay! Bye, Frodo!"

Loslote turned to the camera. "This, then, is your final six, viewers. They will now face the Final Challenge!"

"What is the Final Challenge?" Legolas asked.

"A maze!" Loslote said. "First one to the end wins! And… go!"

"But where does it start?" Pippin asked.

"Isn't it fun?" Loslote said. "It never ends, it never begins. But first one there wins. Go!"

The contestants looked at each other, then bolted to different corners. Finally, Legolas found the maze under Faramir's petticoats.

"Hey, get out of there," Faramir said, pulling away.

"Nice legs," Legolas said, reappearing.

"I'm not even supposed to be here!" Faramir yelled, beating all six contestants away from his legs.

"And yet, you are," Loslote said. "Nice work, Leggie. And I'm afraid that's all we have time for today. Stay tuned for the next episode when Faramir finally finds out exactly what is concealed in those mysterious undergarments. That's a wrap." 


	4. Chapter 4

"And we're back!" Loslote said. She had joined the contestants, against Faramir's protests, in what was apparently some kind of cave. "We're in the entrance to the Final Challenge. But before we begin, Galadriel will present to each of you a gift."

"Goody!" Pippin said. "Like Christmas. Does Middle Earth have Christmas?"

"No."

"Then it's like the time Galadriel gave us gifts."

"Closer."

Galadriel walked forward gracefully. "To you, Eowyn, I give a strand of my hair."

"What for?"

"And to Butterbur," Galadriel said, "I give this Remembrall."

"Harry Potter again." Ellen shook her head in disapproval.

"Really? I forgot," Galadriel said. "Never mind. It doesn't work. But see how it doesn't bounce?"

"My hair is perfectly nice!" Eowyn held Galadriel's strand up with two fingers.

"To Legolas, this can of aerosol Orc-B-Gone."

"Will this harm the environment?"

"Not if you don't use it. Arwen, dear, Grandma made you cookies!"

"Oreos?"

"Alright, I had a busy week. Pippin, a vial of Eärendil's light."

Pippin looked at the tub of Blistex. "Busy week again?"

"It's basically the same as mine, anyway. We're both blonde," Eowyn pointed out.

"And to Glorfindel, a magic rope."

"This is an extension cord."

"Now what do you say to Galadriel?" Loslote prompted.

"Is there even electricity in here?"

"Anyway, my lips are chapped."

"Smells like pomegranate." Eowyn wrinkled her nose.

"That's my polite contestants. All right, choose one of the five entrances and go."

"There are six of us."

Loslote sighed. "Glorfindel and Arwen tied. The maze was already finished. And Galadriel was too busy baking to help."

Arwen raised her eyebrows at Galadriel, who shrugged.

"So one of you will have to take the same tunnel as someone else took."

The contestants looked at each other, and then all but Eowyn ran into a tunnel.

"Yes, Eowyn?" Loslote prompted.

"Well, I mean, the others got useful gifts. What am I supposed to do with this? I want something good. Give me a flashlight. Or a ukulele. An ukulele. A ukulele?"

"Are you finished?"

"An ukulele?"

"The others have been gone for four minutes."

"Okay, give me a guitar and I won't complain."

"Five minutes."

"What do you mean, five minutes?"

"Butterbur has already defeated his trial and has moved on to the last part of the maze."

Eowyn looked around. "Where'd everyone go?"

"Now Arwen is beating you. Again."

"Get out of my way!" Eowyn scrambled for the tunnel Glorfindel took, not that she knew who took which tunnel. "I will not be defeated by that Undomiel chick!"

"That," Loslote said, "remains to be seen."

~~~~~~

Meanwhile, as soon as Loslote dismissed him, Glorfindel had hurried into the closest tunnel. Hearing noises, he rounded a corner. What he saw next would forever remain in his memory as the most beautiful sight in the world.

"Is that a 96-inch plasma TV? Oh… Doritos… Mountain Dew…" Glorfindel sank into the easy chair and grabbed a handful of chips. He smiled — it was the Superbowl: the Eagles against the Trolls. Glorfindel had never seen football before, but somehow, he felt in his soul that he was meant for this, for this moment, to sit and watch and be one with the runners and the wind and the ball and the handsome man who threw the ball as if he were a dancer. Then Glorfindel frowned. He had pushed the button on the arm of the chair, but nothing happened. He was pretty sure the button meant the chair had a massage feature. He twisted around, grimacing in the discomfort of the movement. "Oh, yrch secretions! It's unplugged." He twisted back and allowed the gracefulness of the handsome one to appease him momentarily before he realized that comfort was within his reach. "My magic rope!" he said, and, blessing the wisdom of Galadriel, went to go plug the chair in.

~~~~~~

Also meanwhile, Butterbur, too, wandered down a different tunnel. Butterbur was not a competitive man, and anyway, he was not fond of the darkness. He had a bad feeling that something evil lurked somewhere in it.

Sure enough, a Balrog suddenly appeared before him.

"Ahhh!" Butterbur yelled, but keeping his wits, pulled the Remembrall out of his pocket. He could not remember what it was for but threw it down in desperation. It did not, in fact, bounce.

"Hey! A Remembrall!" the Balrog said, reaching down to pick it up.

Sensing an opportunity, Butterbur fled.

~~~~~~

Also meanwhile, Legolas, stuffing the can of Orc-B-Gone into his bag, walked down his tunnel. A hurricane force gale impeded his progress, but heroically Legolas pressed on. Finally, he discovered the source of the wind. It was an electric fan. Legolas frowned and twisted the dial to the off position. "What kind of a challenge was that?" he asked.

He passed the fan and immediately faced a mirrored wall.

Legolas stopped. He gazed, transfixed, eyes wide with shock and horror.

A single strand stuck up at an odd angle. "My hair!" Legolas whispered.

His hands flew up to his head and pawed, but he was powerless against the strand. Starting to whimper, he reached into his bag and rummaged for something, anything. "Ah," he gasped as he grasped a can, and quickly brought it up and started spraying. When his hair looked perfect again, he started to put the hair spray back. Then he noticed the label.

Orc-B-Gone.

"Well, at least it works on hair." Legolas shrugged, and re-examined his reflection. Then he gasped again. "It's pink!"

~~~~~~

Also meanwhile, Pippin skipped down the tunnel until he found himself in a large chamber. He stopped, but couldn't see anything in the gloom. He shrugged and pulled the Blistex out of his pocket to take care of his chapped lips. But as he opened the tub, light poured out of it, revealing his surroundings.

"It's so white," he said. "And it's buzzing… hey! This is Wal-Mart!"

Pippin heard a noise behind him and turned to look. A huge troll stood there, snarling at him. Pippin reached behind him to see what he could use and grabbed a red phone. He smiled. "Customer assistance! Yes, could you come take care off this troll here? … I'm in aisle thirteen. Near pet toys. Thank you."

Pippin hummed. Soon, a blue-clad employee came and shooed away the troll with a yellow smiley face sticker. "Thanks!" Pippin said. "Can I have one?"

"No prob," the employee said. "Can I getcha anything else?"

"Yeah, I was wondering where the exit is."

"Down there," the employee pointed to a lit exit sign. "See ya."

Pippin continued to the next phase of the maze. Just as he passed through the door, he snapped his fingers. "I should have asked for pipeweed."

~~~~~~

Also meanwhile, Arwen, munching the Oreos, came to a dead end. Blocking the tunnel was a large banner.

"Hey, that looks just like the one I made for Aragorn!" she said. Then she looked closer.

"It is the one I made for Aragorn! How did they get this?" Arwen tried to push the banner to the side, but it was firmly attached to the walls of the tunnel. She looked down at the Oreos and considered the banner. She tried throwing an Oreo at the banner, but it bounced off. Then she tried opening the cookie and scraping out the middle. It was delicious. "But now what am I to do with the dark part?"

It was this question, and not the barrier of the banner, that trapped Arwen for several minutes, long enough, in fact, to make up for Eowyn's demand for stringed instruments.

~~~~~~

Eowyn ran down the hall, heedless of any danger hidden in the dark tunnel, for she was a daughter of Eorlingas, and a brave and strapping one at that. Rounding a corner, she was confronted with the most hideous display she had ever chanced to witness (and she had witness much hideousness in her life) and she heard the most horrible, brain-rending racket (and she had heard many horrible brain-rending rackets): it was the Superbowl XIVIX. Volume 72.

Glorfindel, facing the set, lazily reached for a chip.

Eowyn rolled her eyes. "Oh for crying out loud," she said. She crossed the chamber, having already found the exit to the next phase on the far side of the room. But before she left the room, she paused, snapped her fingers, and went back.

Holding Galadriel's hair with two fingers, she carefully released it high in the air from where it fell, glittering like a falling star-imbued ribbon of light into Glorfindel's Mountain Dew where the tiny plop was indiscernible from the soda's burbling fizz.

As the door fell closed behind her, Eowyn heard just over the blaring announcer an incongruent sound.

"Ack!" 


	5. Chapter 5

"Now what?" Eowyn asked. "We're all here except Glorfindel. Who won?"

"This isn't the end, silly," Loslote said. "This is just where you face the biggest trial of all: Shelob!"

Butterbur and Pippin jumped. Eowyn paled. Legolas drew an arrow back in his bow and swiveled first right, then left, then right again. Finally, Arwen said, "Do you mind? You're going to poke someone's eye out with that thing. Anyway, where is it?"

"Good question," Loslote said. "Suzy?"

"Ellen!"

"No... Loslote."

"No, I'm Ellen."

"Well, I'm not."

Ellen sighed. "Whatever. Oh, and I think Pippin stepped on her."

Loslote leaned and looked at the smudge on the floor behind Pippin. "So he did. Shelob's small."

Ellen shrugged. "I'm scared of big spiders."

Loslote was quiet for a moment. Then, "Fine. Everyone, there's the winner's trophy. First one to grab it wins."

There was a chaotic stampede towards the cup. All five contestants reached it at the same time and grabbed the trophy – and promptly disappeared.

"What? Where did they go?" Loslote asked.

"I turned the trophy into a Portkey," Gandalf said.

"Again with the Harry Potter!" Ellen said.

"Oopsie," Gandalf said.

"What just happened?" Arwen asked, looking around.

"Where are we?" Eowyn asked at the same time.

"I think we're at the pool," Pippin said. "Dibs on the floaty tube!"

"Hey," Butterbur said, pointing across the pool, "There's the trophy. We should probably go get it."

The contestants started running. Immediately, a shrill whistle blew.

"No running!" yelled the lifeguard.

Eowyn, Arwen, and Butterbur began speed-walking. Pippin skipped. "No skipping, either!"

Legolas looked at his watch (he'd eaten an Oreo forty-five minutes earlier) and glanced at the lifeguard. Then he dove into the pool. He quickly pulled ahead, but seeing something in the water, he suddenly dove straight down into the deep water. He emerged seconds later. "Rings!" he gasped.

Everyone stopped speedwalking and Butterbur ran into Eowyn. "Hey!" Eowyn said, pulling her gown out from under Butterbur's boot.

"Rings of Power?" Arwen asked, hastily kneeling by the pool in kneel-dive position.

Legolas resurfaced holding a red plastic ring aloft. "Ooh! A purple one!" He dove back in. Arwen frowned. The others shrugged and resumed walking rapidly.

Legolas, storing the three colorful rings on a bicep, Michael Phelpsed the last few yards and reached the trophy first. He stretched out, Michael Phelps-like and grabbed it. Immediately, both he and the trophy vanished.

The race walkers stopped walking and looked at one another, uncertain what to do next.

"Huh," Pippin said.

"Yrch secretions!" Arwen said. She did not sound pleased.

"Congratulations, Legolas!" Loslote said. "Not only have you just won this season of Double Take, the chlorine has also reacted with the Orc-B-Gone to restore your hair to its natural color!"

"It's not pink anymore? I'm blonde again!"

"Not exactly. You're brunette again."

Legolas grabbed his head. "Bleach!"

"Sorry. No prizes. Well, viewers, this ends our show until next season. Goodbye! Say, Suzy, about my paycheck…"

"No."

A/N: Unfortunately, *someone* forgot to make Faramir sign the liability waiver. He contracted a lawyer and threatened to sue the network for slightly more than Gondor's entire treasury.

Double Take never aired.

** A/N (for real this time!): Thank you so much to all the people who've added this story, favorited, or reviewed. Free hugs to you all!**


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